


Knight in Shining Grey

by weepingredemption



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25530919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingredemption/pseuds/weepingredemption
Summary: You wait in the darkness that is your own home, tormented by the abuse of your own father, for your beloved Weeping Monk to come and take you away, as he had once promised. But will he come?
Relationships: Lancelot (Cursed)/You, The Weeping Monk - Relationship, The Weeping Monk x Reader, The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	Knight in Shining Grey

It happened again.

The words of your father echoed fiercely in your ears, ringing like the church bells announcing the union of a newlywed man and woman, filled with happiness as they wrap up in their love. But there would be no happiness today, only the bitter reminder of the hatred your own father bore for you, the sheer discontent your very presence made him feel.

Pitiful.

You are unworthy of any man.

There was a time when I would wonder why no man has taken you as his wife. Now I understand.

Remove your ugly presence from my sight, wench.

Tears filled your eyes as the words echoed without end. They were a constant reminder, torturing you, tearing your heart apart. The only man who ever regarded you in the loving manner no one has ever done before was not here, far away on duty to the Red Paladins. You understood his oath, the important purpose he was serving. It was the most important charge to him, far more important than fulfilling your whimsical fantasy of appearing at your window one day in the middle of the night, unable to be parted from you any longer. He always disagreed, displeased you think so lowly of yourself, but you could not help it. After living all your life under the hard and hateful eyes of your father, his venomous tongue striking your down every chance he had, you started to believe his words a long time ago.

You wondered if your beloved was thinking of you, wherever he was, and the thought of him made your heart clench with both pain and love. Was he well, were you even kn his thoughts? Would he return to you as promised? The more you dwelled bitterly over these thoughts, the worse you felt. And very briefly you were tempted as your eyes glanced at your chest tucked in the corner of your room, where inside it held a knife. A knife for only one purpose. This your beloved knew. He had found it by accident. The look on his face that day when he turned to you in such disbelief that your spirit was so broken you would even consider such an...alternative.

“Wait for me and I will return to you,” he had whispered on the night of his departure. “I will return, and I will take you away from this place that is hell. I swear it.”

But you had shook your head, placing a hand on his cheek. “You have a greater purpose than a woman. I can’t let you be so hasty for my sake.”

“You are my greatest purpose.” His voice, normally gentle and soft, was firm. “You have given me hope. Life. No quest is greater than you.”

That had been months ago. You wondered if he even remembered. Or worse...if he was even alive.

No, you firmly told yourself. That was not a path you would walk on. You had to believe he was still alive, that he would return. It was the only shred of hope that was keeping you alive.

There was a sound from outside. You were too absorbed in your thoughts to hear it clearly at first but the second time the noise returned, you were able to discern that it was rather close. Was that…a neighing horse? Your curiosity was too strong for you to resist, and so you rose from your bed and moved to your window. A horse was trotting in the distance, slowly drawing closer and closer, black as the night sky itself. At first you thought nothing of it, thinking perhaps a stray horse had found its way to your father’s property. Given that a large expanse of trees and green grass stretched leagues upon leagues from your home, it was not uncommon for a horse to happen upon the estate. But then you noticed the horse was not alone. He bore a rider, and the closer this rider drew the more clearly you could see them and the dark grey clothing he wore, an awfully familiar hood draped over his head.

Your heart nearly stopped.

Your Weeping Monk had returned.

There was not a single ounce of hesitance in your as you fled your room. You rushed down the stairs, uncaring if it would disturb your father or raise alarm to the other occupants in the house. You found the front door and yanked it open, and stood on the porch with your breath hitched in your throat, fiercely hoping what you saw was not a figment of your imagination, your desperate hope and desires playing tricks on you. It was not, and so you ran. You ran fast and hard as though you were the wind itself. Tears broke through the barrier and ran down your cheeks like a great current, but you didn’t care. You could have collapsed from such a fierce flight and you would not have cared – not when he abruptly stopped and dismounted and ran the rest of the way.

You hurtled into his arms, and you cried. You cried and clutched to him, and he in return wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking body. “Shh, my sweet Amaryllis,” he whispered in your ear, a soothing touch to his tender voice as he cradled your head. “You need not cry. Not anymore.”

“You’re here,” you breathed. “You’re here.”

“I made a promise, did I not?” He pulled away, a smile beginning to make way to his lips. It quickly fell when he saw the small cut on your lip. All tenderness left his eyes, replaced with a building anger. “What happened?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

He knew, though. “What did he do?” His question came out through gritted teeth, a seething fire threatening to break free.

“Just get me away from here.” Your grip tightening on his arm brought him out of his rage. His face softened, the anger melting away. “Far away, like you promised. Please.”

“You will never have to lay eyes on this black pit ever again,” he vowed. And then, taking your hand, he helped you up on the saddle before quickly settling behind. With a single command, you were galloping into the night, away from the place that had tormented you for so long. As the estate drew further and further away, slipping into the dark, you did not dare to look behind. You had no reason to. You were wrapped in the arms of your future, your light, even if he himself could never agree with that.

The events of the evening soon caught up to you, and your eyes began to droop as your body struggled to stay upright. His arms tightened around your, pulling your back against his chest. “Sleep,” he whispered. “You have nothing to fear anymore. I am here, and I always will be henceforth this day.”

You smiled as you finally allowed sleep to claim you, wrapped in the arms of your knight in shining grey.


End file.
